


Carefree, wild, and free

by Shaish



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Memories, Roadtrip, Swimming, roadtrip au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2218896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaish/pseuds/Shaish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is all Stringlish's fault she sent me this playlist omg: http://8tracks.com/nightsong/pack-up-your-troubles?utm_campaign=tumblr_button</p>
    </blockquote>





	Carefree, wild, and free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stringlish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stringlish/gifts).



> This is all Stringlish's fault she sent me this playlist omg: http://8tracks.com/nightsong/pack-up-your-troubles?utm_campaign=tumblr_button

Steve lets out a shout as he launches himself off the old creaky dock, clad in dark blue boxer briefs and nothing else, skin ivory in the sun and legs pulling in, one hand flying up into the air as he takes off the last plank, hitting the cold water with a large _splash_.

Bucky sits on the hood of the car, feet perched on the front bumper and easy yet lively beats flowing out of the car’s four open windows, filling the air in a mix of crickets and the sounds of birds in the distance.

Steve resurfaces with a burst of sound and a gasp of air, pushing his hair back with a hand as he keeps himself afloat with the other, turning in the water to look back towards Bucky.

“ _You want to come in?_ ” Steve calls over, a grin on his face that Bucky still only barely remembers seeing in what fragments and half torn pages of memories he has, but it’s familiar enough to ease something loose in his chest.

But he hesitates.

Would the Bucky he was before run in right after Steve, at his heels like he might always have been? Or would he make Steve work for it? Banter back and forth with rapport that the Bucky he is now, the one he’s still slowly piecing together, doesn’t have?

He bites the inside of his lip.

Steve’s smile eases from excited into something softer, eyebrows lifting after a moment in a ‘ _suit yourself_ ’ gesture before he shifts and starts floating on his back, hands and legs moving in lazy strokes through the water. “ _Up to you, Buck_ ,” he calls over.

Bucky pulls a leg up, boot resting on the hood as he drops his eyes from Steve to the grass in front of the car, eyes catching after a moment on a small, white butterfly landing on a tall strand of grass, gently bobbing under its own weight.

He stares at it for a long minute before letting out a quiet breath, dropping his leg back down and pulling his jacket and shirt off as he stands, setting them on the hood of the car. The butterfly stays where it is as he steps carefully onto the dirt, crushing and parting grass with his steps.

His boots, socks, and pants come off next, left on the ground, three knives tucked into the pockets and left behind with only some reluctance as he treads over to the start of the dock, the white butterfly still bobbing on its strand of grass behind him. If Steve notices him coming near, he doesn’t show it.

He keeps his steps light, subconsciously choosing the best places to step that are the least likely to make any noise, wood remaining silent without a creak as he takes a step onto the first blank and stops.

Steve’s still floating in the water, slowly moving from right to left, eventually lining up like a perfect shot straight across from the end of the dock, and Bucky _runs_.

He gets most of the way down the dock without a sound before a loud creak jolts Steve out of his laze, eyes snapping open just before Bucky lunges off the end of the dock in his white boxers.

Steve lets out a surprised shout as Bucky clears over him, jerking out of his float to swim, Bucky landing with a large _splash_ just a foot and a half away.

When Bucky comes back up, hair hanging down in front of his face and water streaming down his skin, Steve’s spluttering, wiping water off of his face and turning in the water to look at him.

“ _Bucky, what-_ ”

But he stops, expression slowly clearing before his lips start curving up, slow at first but soon a wide stretch of a grin, mirroring Bucky’s own. Steve shoves some water at him with a hand and a, “Jerk.”

Bucky leans away slightly before lifting his right arm and shoving water right back, dousing Steve’s face with a small smirk. “Punk.”

Steve laughs as he wipes the water off of his face and Bucky’s smirk eases into a small, warm smile. It hits Steve deeper than the warm sun shining overhead and bouncing off of the water to illuminate them both in gold.

The soft music coming from the car flows across the lake like a balm, and the white butterfly flies on its gentle beats overhead, bobbing along without a care in the world. For once, just like them.


End file.
